Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Samoa and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Spandau Ballet to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by MDC. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rites of Spring,
Toni Rubio,
Chrome,
Byron Stingily,
Jacob Miller,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Selecter,
Hoover,
Connie Case,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warren Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skriet,
Pole,
The Toasters,
Aural Exciters,
Tim Buckley,
Carl Craig,
Fugazi,
Banda Bassotti,
D'Angelo,
Deakin,
June of 44,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Scratch Acid,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terry Callier,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones,
Hashim,
The New Christs,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
AZ,
Little Man,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.